No covers, no compromise...

I am (hopefully) about to embark on a new artistic journey - in the shape of a band with another guitarist.  Obviously, I have no idea how it will turn out - but I am hoping that it will be rewarding and feed my need for music making.  

It is a tricky business, because, like any other kind of relationship it inevitably relies on compromise and that seems to be something that gets harder as I get older.  I have been in a few bands over the years, some better than others, and some involving more compromise than others.  I have tried (other than one band) to resist the temptation to go the easy route and do covers - not that there aren't songs that I don't want to learn to play, or that I necessarily think that my songs are any better than anyone else's - it's more that I need that kinda personal investment in the music.  

Also, if you start off playing covers, people will often like your band because you play songs that they already like, and it makes it harder to move on to doing originals.  And to be honest, I don't play music to make other people happy (though I don't mind if they do) - I do it because I need to - and I feel that this is the most honest way to approach music making.  It is far too personal to do for other people. 

It perplexes me greatly when people complain because a band progresses and changes over time - particularly when they are talking about "progressive rock" bands.  It seems that they secretly (or not so secretly!) want them to keep making the same album over and over again (some bands appear to have made entire and alarmingly successful careers of doing just that).  That is most assuredly not what I want - I want bands to go away, search their collective "souls" and express what they find however they can.  I will listen.  I may well not like it, but if it is honest, I will respect it.  And it may grow on me.  If the artists are prepared to work hard on their music, I am prepared to put effort into understanding and appreciating it.  No X Factor(y) bad covers or written by committee nothingness.  (Yes I am probably a music snob, but I don't care - it is too important to me to take it lightly.)

So I go into my new band line up eyes open, sleeves rolled up and heart laid bare to feed the music.  I may get frustrated at my limited ability, but hopefully we will find something that will feed our souls, drive us on and maybe even someone somewhere, similarly twisted, may like it.  But in my heart, I don't care.  This is for me and my fellow travellers.

Who ate all the pie..?

Chart.

I have been having a bit of a mixed time lately - good times with family and friends, things are good at work, and Freya and I have had a chance to go and see a bit of the Fringe with Wee C away for a holiday at Granny and Papa's in Killie.  But the "Enemy Within" has also been in evidence, which is, I suppose, nobody's fault but mine.  The ol' Black Dog has been chewing my brain like it was a manky old slipper.  Which, in a way, it is.

I was thinking a bit about it this morning, and (being the sad old Excel-jockey that I am) I started visualising it as a pie-chart.  In my life, the vast majority is good, with my lovely family making up a substantial slice, and with friends, music, books and work etc. making up most of the rest.  Just now, however, I don't seem to have the whole pie - I am in possession of less than 100%.  One section appears to have been substituted for dark matter - or just nothing.

This missing part is, I think, the creative part of me.  And I damn well want it back.  I have tried asking myself nicely, but I am not playing, so to speak.  I know that it is all down to me.  I want to make myself feel better by grabbing my guitar and flooding my empty parts with music.  But I won't let myself.  It is too damned easy to not bother.  

If I do manage to get as far as picking one up, it is too damned easy for my mind to fill with the conviction that it is sounding awful and I should give up.  I need to play through this, I need to get involved in some sort of musical collaboration with others so that the creativity can flow between us and be amplified like in the cavity of a laser, reflecting back and forth and growing stronger with each pass.  

Of course, organising this takes the sort of energy that the depression steals away.  Depression, I feel, (and may well have mentioned before) seems to have a self-preservation instinct that tries to stop you acting to lessen its effects.

There have been small signs that I remember where my creativity is - I have been experimenting with odd tunings, and tiny fragments of passably ok new music have been emerging.  I have even been using my phone to keep these pieces for when my muse has returned sufficiently for them to be of use.  There are embers, but the flame is not yet returned.

I will though take strength from my family and friends and try to get my fire burning strongly again, because I know that when it does, it helps to make the rest of my pie/world shine that much more brightly.